our ship, hailing us with a hoarse scream as they pass— some bound for the coast of England, and some for that of France; but all bearing steadily on, like mariners who know their way.

By and bye, the distant horizon seems clouded and uneven, although the rest of the expanse, both of sea and sky, is without a spot, and glows in all the radiance of a summer afternoon. A kind of film gathers on that part of the rim of the ocean; but as it sometimes shifts its place, and sometimes disappears, when we look steadily, it is attributed rather to an imperfection in our own eyes than to any reality in the scene. In the course of a few turns more upon the deck, the film has changed into a clouddusky, lowering, and mysterious; which gradually extends along the line of the sea, and sometimes overflows, as it were, and enters within the charmed circle. Soon the seeming cloud forms, settles, and becomes steady; its edges are more definite; its masses are divided into height and hollow; a daub of colour here and there begins to give effect to the unfinished picture; and when at length the sun-light is able to pierce the shades of distance, or rather when our own eyes have power to follow it, we see palpably before us the coast of France.

On nearing the land, we observe two lines of coast, to the right and left, separated by a gulf of water four or five leagues broad. This is the embouchure of the Seine; on the right bank of which, at the entrance, stands HAVRE, and on the left,

HONFLEUR.

The river is studded, but not impeded (for here it seems not a river, but the sea,) by immense sand-banks, along which the eye is carried towards Quillebœuf, a distance

88

HARBOUR OF HAVRE.

of nearly six leagues; where the expanse of water appears to terminate, forming in the whole an immense oblong lake.

It was already the commencement of evening when we landed at Havre; and the crowd on the pier, the lights here and there in the windows, and the noises of the busy streets, gave indication of a great and populous town. There is something, in fact, altogether Parisian in the aspect of this place, which is in reality the port of Paris; and while wandering through its lofty and dusky thoroughfares, more especially at night, the traveller might easily be able to persuade himself that he traversed one of the quarters of the huge metropolis. The Rue de Paris, more especially, would be considered a handsome street in any capital; but it is not of mere beauty we talk, but of character-and this is altogether French and Parisian.

In order to obtain an idea of

HAVRE,

however, in its distinct individual character, it is necessary to view the town in its sea-port aspect; and the splendid engraving which accompanies this page will enable the reader to do so as well as if he stood upon the pier itself. A steam-boat is just about to leave the quay, probably for Southampton-no, for Honfleur-which will account for the unusual crowd.

Havre is, comparatively, an infant city, dating only from the beginning of the sixteenth century, when its foundation was laid by Francis I; although the honour of the idea at least, if nothing more, is due to his predecessor, Louis XII. It is not wonderful that the French kings should have formed a strong predilection for a port situated at the mouth of the Seine-the river of Paris-the river